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withleeknow · 4 months

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forgetful.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.

"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.

"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.

"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."

he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.

"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.

"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."

"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."

"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."

squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.

despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.

"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."

he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.

"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.

"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."

you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.

it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.

before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.

"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"

"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"

"people are staring!"

"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."

"i take it back!"

you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.

"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."

he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.

"how do you have my gloves?"

"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."

you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah."

once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.

"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.

minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.

"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."

because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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cutielando · 4 months

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i'll take care of you ~ jj maybank

my masterlist

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You reached our for it and when you saw who the caller was, you immediately sat up and answered it.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

JJ's heavy breath was the only thing you could hear.

"JJ? Is everything okay? What's going on?" you pressed, panic settling in your chest.

"Can I come over? I'll explain everything" his voice was so small, you could barely hear him.

"Of course you can, baby"

"I'll see you in 10 minutes" he said and hung up, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

It wasn't weird to get phone calls from JJ in the middle of the night, but he was never this distressed. Your mind started coming up with all kinds of scenarios, one worse than the other.

The 10 minute wait seemed like forever before you heard the all too familiar knock on your window.

You immediately jumped and opened it, being met with the bloody and bruised smiling face of your boyfriend.

"What happened to your face?" you asked while helping him enter your room without making too much noise to wake up your parents.

"Nothing serious, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as bad as it looks" he shrugged his shoulders and laid back on your bed.

You stood rooted in your spot, staring at him. You knew where the bruises came from all too well, but it didn't help that JJ was still trying to hide them from you.

"J, please just tell me the truth" your voice was small, knowing that JJ couldn't deal with screams and anger.

"I am, it's nothint that hasn't happened before. I'm used to it, it's fine" he was now sitting up, patting the spot next to him.

You bit your lip but complied and sat down, putting your right hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, baby" tears started streaming down your cheeks by now, sobs fighting their way out of your body.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, it's just how he is. He's not always like this, you know, he has his good moments" the fact that he still tried to defend his dad, beaten to a pulp by him, brought even more tears and sadness in you.

"You don't deserve this, baby. Nobody should ever lay a finger on you, let alone a hand. You deserve so much better" you rested your head against his shoulder, squeezing his knee in comfort.

He brought a hand down to his knee and took hold of yours. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, knowing how much JJ needed to feel you there with him.

"I have you, and that's all I need. Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your fault" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

"Please let me take care of you. I'll talk to my parents and see if you can stay here for a while. They can even become your legal guardians until you turn 18. I know they'll do it, and you'll finally have a safe place that you could call home" the idea seemed so simple and easy for you, but it seemed like such a stretch to JJ.

"I can't ask you or your parents to do that, babe. Being a burden to your family is the last thing I want to do" he tried to reason with you, but you weren't having it.

"No, you listen to me. I am not letting you go back home, JJ. My parents love you and I know they are going to want to help you. Please don't push me away, let me help you" you were basically begging him at this point, but you didn't care.

Nobody deserved the life that he had, and you'll be damned if his father touched him one more time. You were going to do everything in your power to make sure he'd never received another punch or insult from his dad ever again.

"Okay" he finally whispered after a while, chewing on his bottom lip.

You let out a big sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding and wrapped him in your arms, silent tears falling down your face.

He buried his head in your neck, taking in your familiar scent and warm hold.

He finally felt like things could finally take a turn for the better. Like he would get a new chance at life.

All because of you.

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afewproblems · 8 months

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Season 2 Halloween AU Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Eddie waits till the end of the day to strike.

It's after four, and almost everyone has left for the day with the exception of the teachers and the janitor --who has already given Eddie the stink eye for remaining after hours for 'no reason'.

But Eddie does have a reason, a pretty decent one too.

He's waiting for King-Steve to get out of detention.

Turns out it didn't take until lunch for the whole school to hear about Harrington and Wheeler. In fact, the way Eddie heard, Steve had been ambushed not two minutes after his conversation with Nancy by Hagan and Hargrove.

Now here was where the story differed depending on who you heard it from.

Tammy Thompson told her lunch table that Steve freaked out when Hargrove started talking shit about Nancy.

Mark Holmes told Jim Cutter that Hagan got punched in the face and Hargrove was simply defending his friend from Steve.

Sarah March told Jeff in their homeroom that Steve wound up with a black eye after gym class that morning and was almost suspended for the week.

Eddie knows there must be a thread of truth linking all of these stories together. And at this point, he'd much rather hear it straight from the source.

Plus with a black eye Harrington would be needing those glasses back.

Eddie snaps the gum in his mouth and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against locker 109, certain that Steve will have to stop by before he leaves.

"Munson?"

Speak of the devil.

Eddie tilts slightly in the direction of the voice and blows out a low whistle at the sight of the shiner on Steve's face.

It's already a deep purple, though it isn't as swollen as Eddie would have thought. It matches the colour of the bags under Steve's good eye and is accentuated by how strangely pale he looks today. Steve's lip is also split down the middle, blood staining his polo collar.

Huh, so it didn't happen in gym.

"Looks like someone had an interesting day," Eddie smiles as he crosses one leg over the other and taps the tip of his chuck on the linoleum, Steve winces at the harsh squeak it makes.

"Look Munson, whatever you want, just get it over with," Steve manages to say through gritted teeth, his hands have clenched into loose fists but the same tremor from the night before has returned in full force.

Eddie pushes himself off of Steve's locker and watches as the other man tenses. Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches behind himself, grabbing the shades from where they are hanging off his back pocket. Steve's gaze follows Eddie's movements and barely halts a flinch as the sunglasses are tossed into his chest.

Steve only seems to catch them with his latent jock ability but still nearly drops them in surprise.

"You left these in my van last night," Eddie shrugs at the way Steve's head tilts slightly, he looks from the glasses in his hand to Eddie and back again with a frown.

"Oh," he breathes out, and the tension drops from Steve's frame like the strings holding him up are all at once severed.

"First a taxi service, now a courier," Eddie smirks, dropping his left hand to his hip, "how ever will you make it up to me Harrington?"

Steve grimaces, rubbing a hand down his face, he winces as it brushes the deepening bruise under his eye, "I'm sure you're about to tell me".

Eddie grins, pretending to consider his options as he lifts a ringed hand to his chin to hold it thoughtfully for a beat while Steve stands before him, looking more and more frustrated with every passing second.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie says with a sly smile as he steps closer, nearly into Steve's space, and leans in.

"Maybe you'll owe me one," Eddie winks as he says it before dropping his voice into a wheezing Italian affectation, "perhaps one day soon I'll call upon you for a favor--"

"What?" Steve sputters out in a strangled laugh, leaning away from Eddie's sudden proximity.

From this angle Eddie can see the slightest flush creeping down Steve's neck.

"The Godfather? You know?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at the blank expression on Steve's face, "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse?"

Steve's brow pinches in confusion as he shakes his head.

"I mean," Eddie huffs, moving out of Steve's space again, "you'd probably like it, you have plenty of practice rejecting offers don't ya big boy?"

It takes a second for the words to register for both of them.

Steve's eyebrows cut creases across his forehead as they rise into his hair and Eddie immediately wants to fling himself off the gymnasium roof.

Of all the stupid, stupid things--

"Is this about the weed?" Steve asks slowly with a frown wrinkling his nose, it would be cute if Eddie wasn't beside himself with relief.

Focus.

"Yup," Eddie manages to say with a straight face despite the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat and leans backwards to drape himself against the lockers again, miscalculating how far he's moved away from them after Steve showed up.

Eddie loses his footing and slams into the metal with a loud bang, sliding down onto the floor in a leather clad heap.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hears from above him, opening his eyes to find a pair of wide hazel ones staring into his own.

"Did you hit your head?"

Eddie ignores the question and the heat that rises in his face and ears. He wants nothing more at this moment than to tell Steve to fuck off, to leave him to crawl into a hole now and finally live the rest of his days as a Hobbit.

But King-Steve is persistent.

"Come on Munson, we should go before someone comes to see what happened, I'm not getting another detention for you," Steve huffs as he holds a hand out in front of Eddie.

Eddie looks from the outstretched hand in front of him, to Steve's face. His stupid, earnest, beautiful face, and takes his hand, grunting as he rises back to his feet.

A door opens down the hall, near the admin office and both men freeze as a pair of heels begin to click and clack their way down the hall.

"Shit," Eddie hisses at the same time Steve barks out a frantic, "Go, go, go!"

They scramble to get away from the lockers and make a beeline for the side exit, a mixture of laughter and curses echoing after them.

Eddie doesn't stop running until he reaches the driver's side door of his van.

He pants out a wild laugh and shakes his head as Steve bends at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. When Steve rights himself, there's a flush of exertion and a bright smile that is only slightly marred by the black eye and split lip.

"You're a trip Harrington," Eddie breathes out before clutching his throat, "I think I swallowed my gum back there".

Steve laughs loud and bright and Eddie can't help but watch the way his head tips back, exposing the long column of his neck. He looks up again, his eyes seem to search Eddie's face briefly before he shakes his head with an expression Eddie's never seen before.

"Yeah well," Steve huffs, his good eye crinkles at the corner from his smile, "you're not what I thought you'd be like either Munson".

And Eddie just doesn't know what to do with that.

Instead, he clears his throat and kicks at a piece of gravel that careens across the empty student parking lot.

"Where's your noble steed?" Eddie asks, his head on swivel. Harrington's car was fairly iconic around here, no way it would have been missed among the sea of beat up Ford's and Gremlins.

Steve tilts his head and frowns slightly, "I left it at Tina's remember?"

And yeah, shit, that makes sense, he must have caught the bus that morning and completely missed it with detention.

"...do you need a ride?"

"Okay".

Part four up!

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#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party?#this fic is going places apparently #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes #cw marijuana #cw injury #eddie is a clumsy goblin man and i will die on that hill #well love a man that can make us laugh with his antics and so does steve

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cemeterything · 1 year

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idk if it's an actual trope but i really love it when there's a scene in a film or tv show where someone tries to defend their position but gets overwhelmed and told to lay down their weapons and rather than slowly, carefully laying it down while trembling in fear, throws them down with an expression of visible disgust and barely repressed boiling fury, because it's such a powerful gesture of defiance. like, sure, i know i'm beaten and there's no way i can fight my way out of this, you've got me cornered exactly where you want me, but why the fuck should i accept surrender with grace? what dignity is there in repressing my honest feelings about how much this fucking blows? what good is there in being a 'good sport' about it when you're against everything i stand for? no, actually. you don't get to see the shadow of defeat in my eyes just because you're holding a gun to my head. you'll never know the satisfaction of breaking my spirit. i'll deny you what you want until my last breath. kicks my sword angrily and scowls.

#🐉#its sooooo good. like man fuck your victory! eat shit!#defiant surrender my beloved

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 2 months

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Jack Harlow request: This idea just came to my mind, imagine Jack being out with the kids somewhere and a fan approaches him and gives him flowers. Of course he’s nice about it but the girls are like “ooooo- wait until mommy finds out.” And when you get home they tell you immediately before Jack gets a chance to. 🤣

Mommy's Day Off

"We're not done talking about this!", Jack's voice was gruff and loud, a giveaway that he was frustrated and upset. He was at his wits end in this argument but he wasn't willing to let sleeping dogs lie. He pulled at the curls at the back of his neck as he followed you around the house.

"Jack, lower your voice. Please", you bit back, your hands full of the kids' toys that were left around the house at the end of the night. "I just got Wes to sleep." You too were over this conversation, but you weren't ready to throw in the towel and forgive Jack yet.

You knew you were very lucky to be married to a man you considered your best friend, but that didn't mean you didn't have your issues. It was always the same argument with Jack; you would make plans for the family to spend time together, maybe a long weekend away or a Saturday outing, and his schedule would get in the way.

"You don't think I want to spend the weekend with my family instead of going to LA for some stupid press junket?" He didn't even feel like he had a leg to stand on in this fight, but he was contractually obligated to promote his new movie.

Jack felt like a broken record, having to defend his career tooth and nail against things he knew were more important to them. Sometimes he felt trapped in a cycle, forced to make sacrifices to keep his job afloat while also disappointing the people he cared about most, and it kept happening over and over again.

"I don't know, Jack", you sighed, as you adjusted the pillows on the couch, finding a stray baby sock in the crack of the cushions. "Do you?" You knew that was a low blow, but you were upset and caught up in the moment. You turned to face him, the hurt lingering on his features as he looked at you. "You're gonna leave this weekend, and I'll be here, alone, with three kids. Its not fair how much slack I have to pick up when you're not here."

Jack let out a breath through his nostrils, his jaw flexing as he tried to calm his breathing. "I keep telling you we could get a nanny or my mom offered to help you with the kids, but you keep shooting the idea down." You could feel your body tense, the grip you had on one of Aaliyah's stuffies strong enough to rip the head off at the seams. "Why are you so stubborn about it?"

It may have been unintentional, but Jack sure knew how to push your buttons.

"Because I want my husband here!" All of the items you had in your arms flew across the room when you threw your hands up. Jack stepped back to avoid a heavy plastic toy landing on his foot, as well as your wrath.

"I love Maggie, and she's such a great grandma, but its not fair to ask her to help out all the time, and I sure as hell don't want a stranger in our house around the kids! I want the man that I started this family with? Is that really so much to as for?" God, it felt good to get that off of your chest, even though you knew it didn't solve anything.

"Baby, lower your voice." Jack regretted shushing you as soon as he said it, the look you gave him enough to shut him up for the rest of the night. You took in a sharp breath, prepared to give him a piece of your mind when you heard a cry out in the distance. "Great", you mumbled under your breath, your teeth gritted together.

"Go get him, I'll clean up this mess up", Jack whispered as you left him standing alone in the living room.

****

The next morning, Jack's eyes fluttered open to the sound of Aaliyah running through the house. "Daddy, what're you doing in the libing room?" He sat up, trying to stretch out the crick in his neck from sleeping uncomfortably all night. "Daddy was silly last night, he got in trouble with mama."

Her face scrunched in a way that made him chuckle, her arms draping around his neck as she played with his ears. "Did you get put in time out?"

"I did", Jack lowered his voice to a whisper when he saw you walk past him. "An eight hour time out." He picked her up and headed into the kitchen.

Brooklyn was already eating her cereal and you had a fussy Wes balanced in your arms as you made Aaliyah some oatmeal. Jack had a moment of panic when he looked at the time. "Wait, aren't the girls going to be late for school?"

"We don't have school today. It's President's Day", Brooklyn said with a smile.

"That's right", Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through his messy chestnut curls, "I forgot all about that."

He looked over to you, his stomach in knots after your fight last night. You could feel his eyes on you, but sleep did nothing to fix your frustrations, so you weren't interested in making nice this morning. "I've got the studio reserved today and then I was thinking we could grab dinner tonight when I get home." That had the girls excited, both giddy about going to their favorite restaurant in Louisville. "Sound good to you, babe?" He was desperate to hear you say anything, even a single word.

"Actually, that's not gonna work for me", you uttered with a sarcastic tone. You handed Wesley to Jack, who balanced him on his forearm. "I'm gonna take the day off, go to brunch with my friends, maybe make it a spa day. You can take the kids with you to the studio."

Jack let out a frustrated breath. "I was really looking to buckle down and get some work done today", he spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "I think the girls would rather spend the day with their grandparents. I'll call them."

"Don't bother." You stopped him before he could grab his phone off the counter. "Your dad is spending the day with Clay, and I'm treating your mom to a well deserved day off." You turned to the girls, "doesn't a day with Daddy sound like fun?" Aaliyah let out a squeal of excitement. "Will Uncle Urby be there?" Brooklyn asked, a little bit hesitant about spending the day cooped up in a soundproof room, but if her favorite uncle was there, she could suck it up.

"Yeah, I'll make sure he comes", Jack said as he shot off a text to his best friend. "We're gonna get dressed!" Brooklyn took Aaliyah by the hand and they both ran up stairs to their room.

Alone in the kitchen, Jack turned to you. "I know you're upset with me, but this is unfair. You know how much pressure I'm under to finish this album."

You let out a hum as you gently grazed a finger along Wesley's cheek. "Jack, in all the years we've been married and been a family, I have always been incredibly understanding of you and your work. I've stood by you through everything, and I have never asked you to choose between us or your music career, because I know how important it is to you But I am exhausted. I'm taking this day for me, and you're just going to have to figure it out." You gave Wesley a kiss on the forehead and walked away before Jack could get another word out.

****

"Aaliyah, sit in your seat, please." Jack wiped the sweat off of his brow as he picked the diaper bag off the ground and placed it underneath the car seat.

Getting all three kids into the car proved to be more of a challenge than he was expecting, and he was already 30 minutes late for his slot at the studio and he hadn't even left the house. Wesley had a blowout right after he changed him into his clothes, and Aaliyah was having a meltdown over one of her stuffies.

"No! I need Mr. Effie! I can't leave the house without him", Aaliyah spoke through tears, her arms crossed over her chest. "Baby, we don't have time to find your stuffed elephant, we have to go." Jack said with an exasperated tone. "Now, please, sit in your seat."

"I can't go without him!", she cried out again. "Aaliyah, that's enough." Jack was trying his hardest to control his tone.

Brooklyn looked up from her iPad. "Dad, Mr. Effie is in the laundry room. Liyah got some apple sauce on him yesterday so mom had to wash him."

"Okay, watch your siblings. I'll be right back", Jack shut the car door and jogged into the house to find the stuffed animal. He frantically searched through the pile of clean clothes until he saw a peak of the elephant's trunk underneath. He snatched the toy and ran out the house.

"Thank you Daddy!", Aaliyah wiped her face and cuddled Mr. Effie close. Jack hopped into the front seat and turned to face the girls. "You're welcome. Now listen, I need to get work done today, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay? No tears, no screaming, just being the sweet girls I know you can be."

"Yes, Dad", both girls said in unison as Jack pulled out of the garage and headed to the studio.

When they arrived downtown, Jack's head was buried so far in the diaper bag to find a pacifier for Wesley, he barely noticed the young woman who approached him in the parking lot.

"Excuse me, are you Jack Harlow?" Jack's head shot up and was on a swivel to see who was speaking. He had a moment of panic that he was being approached by some paps and that was the last thing he needed right now. The girl to the left of him looked harmless enough, nervous even, as she gave him a big smile.

"Sorry, you scared me", Jack chuckled, slinging the diaper bag on his shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm-I'm just such a big fan of yours." She stuttered over her words, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you, that's so sweet of you to say. I've gotta get inside, but thank-"

"Hi!" Aaliyah waived at the fan from the backseat. "I'm Aaliyah! What's your name? " She was still too young to understand Jack's career and fame, and thought he just had a lot of friends everywhere they went.

Jack was quick to shut down the interaction. "Baby, get your stuff together so we can go inside." He was very protective of his family, and even though most of his fans were nice, he tried to prevent exposing the girls to the public as much as possible. He turned back to the fan who was now holding a bouquet of flowers in his face. "Oh, are these for me?"

"Yeah, your music has meant so much to me, I always said if I ever met you, I'd return the favor." Jack felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, it always meant so much to him when he came across a fan of his. "Thank you, that's incredibly nice of you." He gave her a hug and took a selfie with her before she took off.

"Daddy, those flowers are beautiful! Was that your girlfriend?", Aaliyah asked, her eyes wide at the beautiful bouquet. Jack knitted his brow together. "No baby, I don't have a girlfriend, I only have eyes for mama."

"She's not his girlfriend, but she is a secret admirer", Brooklyn teased as she jumped out of the car. "Mama's gonna be mad when she finds out."

"What's a secret amirer?", Aaliyah asked with a tilt of her head. "Its someone who secretly likes you, and she wasn't a secret admirer, she was just a nice fan." Jack grabbed the car seat out of the car, Wesley sleeping peacefully through all of the commotion. "Let's not tell Mama about this okay? I'm already in the dog house with her." He grabbed Aaliyah's hand as they rushed into the building. "Let's get inside, I'm already so late."

"Dog house?" Aaliyah questioned, looking up at Brooklyn, who just shrugged.

The three year old was learning a lot of new phrases today.

****

It was after dark when you finally got home. You noticed Jack's SUV in the garage when you pulled up into the driveway. You immediately felt guilty for leaving him by himself today, as soon as you left the house, but you had to admit, a day off was exactly what you needed. You had the stress massaged, waxed off, and plucked out of you with tweezers, and you were feeling a lot better.

Still, you knew it wasn't right to leave a fight unresolved, so you brought a peace offering, grabbing the boxes of pizza from your family's favorite place, out of the passenger seat before you headed inside. The house was eerily quiet, with three kids that was rarely a good sign, but everything seemed to be in once piece.

Its wasn't that you didn't trust Jack to take care of things, he was a fantastic father, but even you lost track of the house after a long day.

You flipped on the kitchen light, your breath hitching at the sight of the beautiful bouquet on the counter, full of your favorite flowers. You took a moment to sniff at the roses, your stomach fluttering at the romantic gesture.

You got so caught up in your emotion today, you let yourself forget for a moment that you were married to a man who made you feel incredibly loved and cherished every single day. Sure, you had your problems, but the good always outweighed the bad.

"Mama! Did you have a good spa day?" Brooklyn collapsed into a hug with you as soon as she saw you, making you stumble back. "I did. Did everything go okay today while I was gone?"

"We got to touch all the pretty buttons on the computer today!" Aaliyah exclaimed as she climbed into a dining chair. "You did? Did you behave for Daddy?", you asked, giving the girls some pizza. "Uncle Urby let us take pictures with his camera, it was a lot of fun", Brooklyn chimed in, her mouth full of cheese.

"The girls were very good, I was very proud of them." You felt Jack's presence as he walked into the kitchen, wearing a pair of sweats, his curls hanging in his face.

"Hi", he whispered with a small smile when you looked at him. He wouldn't admit it, but between being upset over your fight and taking care of the kids, he didn't get any work done today. He couldn't get you off of his mind, and all he wanted to do was hug you and apologize profusely.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" You grabbed Jack's hand and led him into the hallway, out of sight of the girls. As soon as you stopped and turned, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. Jack sighed contently as he held you against his chest, his hands roped around your waist.

"I hate fighting with you", you mumbled into his sweatshirt. "I do too", Jack admitted, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You pulled back, stroking Jack's beard between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I never should have guilted you for working. I did exactly what I said I'd never do." You felt tears start to build in your lashes, the lump in your throat building.

"You were right, though", Jack wiped the wetness under your eye away with his thumb, "its not fair how much work you have to do when I'm not here. I feel so lucky that our kids have you, because today was a lot, and I can only imagine what you have to put up with every day."

You giggled, pulling him in by the neck for a quick kiss. "I wouldn't change it for the world." He felt so much better now that you two had made up and he had you back in his arms.

"Thank you so much for the flowers too, they're beautiful." You squeezed his hand affectionately as you walked back into the kitchen. Jack had no idea what you were talking about. "You're welcome?", he did a terrible job hiding the inflection in his voice. It didn't connect until he saw the flowers the fan gave him this morning. He'd completely forgotten about them in the rush of the day.

"Mama! Did you see the flowers?" Aaliyah ran over to you, and you picked her up, walking over to the flowers. "I did, they're beautiful, Daddy did a wonderful job."

"Daddy didn't buy these flowers", your middle child had zero filter or ability to keep a secret. Jack cowered, realizing his apology to you was short lived. You looked over at him. "What is she talking about?"

"He got them from a pretty lady. His secret admiral", her genetic dimple showed as she smiled big, so happy with herself for remembering the words. "Your what?" Your eyes were still on Jack, who was nervously biting at his thumb nail.

"Huh?" he perked up, pretending he didn't hear a word either of you said.

"We told him you were gonna be upset, Mama." Brooklyn admitted, biting another piece off of her slice of pizza.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fanfic

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 1 year

Text

FIRST PLACE part 3

pairings: Xavier thorpe x Fem!reader summary: hating each other doesn't really work out when there's different feelings hiding beneath it. warning: swearing, them being assholes to each other. note: reader is Wednesday's cousin. again. pretty long. I told myself this would be the last part but I got carried away. sooooo part 4 tomorrow so comment if you would like to be tagged in that

part 1 part 2 part 4

Xavier's POV

"Y/n!" I knocked on her window "can we talk"

the lights were off but there was noise coming from inside

"you can't ignore me forever" I sighed.

the window was slightly open so I took my chance and pushed it open more. climbing into her room.

I looked around and walked to her desk. looking at the statue of a frog playing an instrument. It was an odd concept but it seemed like something she would like, I picked it up and examined it closer until I heard footsteps coming to the door, I quickly put the frog down and made my way out the window again.

---

"you snuck into my room" you said walking up to Xavier

"what?" he questioned, Looking at you confused

"you broke into my room last night" you stated

"no I didn't" he denied quickly

"there's no point in lying, Xavier. there's proof. you're an amateur in that department"

"what proof do you have then?" he asked, getting annoyed

you pulled out a little zip-lock bag with a single hair in it

"is that a strand of hair?" Xavier spoke surprised and shocked

"a strand of your hair, yes" you nodded

"that could be anyone's hair" he defended himself

"It could've been, that's why Wednesday got it tested" you insited

"what the hell do you mean you got it tested?" he replied

"i think you know what it means" you huffed

"you're insane"

"I got to my room last night only for my room to smell like you, I find my frog in the wrong place and a single hair my floor. not to mention my window was an inch more open than when I left it. and when I looked out of it, I find that you're not at you painting on the wall, but your supplies are" you investigated "care to explain why?"

"again, you're insane" he scoffed

"no, I'm just observant" you spoke dully

"right, ok" he rolled his eye

"why were you in my room?" you demanded an answer

"I wanted to talk to you" he shrugged

"what is so important to tell me that you had to break into my room?" you huffed, crossing you arms

"wel- how do you know what I smell like?" he trailed off

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows

"you said you got to your room and noticed it smelt like me. how do you know what I smell like?" he smirked

"because it smelt shit just like you"

"are you sure about that?" he chuckled

"I'm certain" you said before you turned away.

as you walked off, you and Xavier both took a deep breath and gulped.

---

During Outreach day, you snuck away from your group to go to the cafe

"what do you want?" Xavier asked

"A coffee, that's what everyone comes in here for" you told him simply

"what type of coffee?" he sighed

"one without your spit in it" you shrugged

"why would I spit in your coffee?" he shook his head in disappointment

"I don't know, the look on your face said it"

"what coffee would you like?" he questioned

"maybe a frappe" you said, looking at the menu at the top

"maybe? it's a yes or a no" he huffed, getting impatient

you smiled sarcastically "first of all, you're not getting a tip anymore. and yes, I'll have a coffee frappe"

"7.50"

you gave him the money and walked to your table. looking out the window to the street

you pulled out your phone and scrolled through pages, seeing Enid's page was updated with the latest 'gossip'

it was a photo of two people taken from a distance, you couldn't recognise the people in the photo so you read the description

'these two seem to talk a bit too much for them to be just enemies' it read

it was only posted a minute ago, with only one like and a single comment

as you looked at the comments under it you saw a comment from Xavier

'Enid take this down right now'

it was until then that you noticed it was you and Xavier in the photo

"here's your Coffee frappe without spit" Xavier put down the drink

"thanks" you mumbled

you messaged Enid, telling her to take the post down as soon as possible, not even a second later she gave in and said she would take it down. you thanked her and put your phone away, taking a sip of your drink.

----

"what the hell are you doing?" Xaviers voice called out from the rain. you looked up at him to see him with an umbrella

"why are you here?" you glared at him

"Wednesday told me you planned on going around here." he explained

"that doesn't answer my question" you blinked blankly

"just get under the umbrella" he moved closer to you, trying to get you under the purple umbrella with him

"I don't need protection from the rain" you stated

"I don't want you to get sick" he pleaded

"since when do you care if I get sick or not?" you investigated

"fine" he grumbled

"what's wrong with you?" you rebuked

"nothing?"

"stop. you've been acting weird lately and I don't like it" you spat

"what do you want from me?" he quizzed

"to act like you did before, like you hate and not care about me" you declared

"I do hate you" he nodded his head

"that's not what logic says" you pointed out

"what logic?" he retorted

"you have a drawing of me in your notebook, you're always around me now and you kissed me the other day" you announced "any logical person would say that you have feelings for me, but I refuse to be under your trap"

"trap? what trap!?" he said loudly

"the one where you think you can trap me into thinking I don't hate you" you explained

"you're insane! you know that? I'm basically serving my feelings to you on a silver platter here and you say I'm trapping you?" he yelled at you

"yes, that is what I said" you nodded

"what is wrong with you?!" he screamed as the rain got heavier

you stayed silent, you didn't want to answer him anymore so you just stared at him blankly.

"I could ask the same question" you mumbled, walking past him

----

It was quiet in the quad as you stared at the boy from afar.

he was oblivious to you behind him as he painted the wall

"I hate you" you must of scared him for a second time and made him mess up for the second time

"oh yeah? care to share why that is?" he huffed, mad at you

"you are an asshole"

"yeah? you're not the nicest person either" he rolled his eyes

"I have done nothing to you!" you yelled at him

"is that really what you believe in your twisted little mind?" he growled. putting his paintbrush down and backing you up into a pillar

"It's not a belief, It's a fact" you corrected

"you know what else is a fact?" he took a short pause, not caring for your answer "you're being a bitch"

"I've always liked dogs" you glared at him

"you can't be serious? I tell you I like you and you just walk away like I don't matter. Like my feelings don't matter!" he yelled "and the sad part is that you don't even care, you think you're treating me fairly!"

"I hate you, how else am I supposed to treat someone I hate?" you questioned

"yeah, right, why do you hate me again? because you're afraid of showing your emotions? afraid of the true feelings you have for me?" he laughed dryly

"you scared me" you stated

"I scared you" he chuckled, licking his lips while looking down at his feet, he shook his head amused as his dimples became more defined

"that's pathetic. I scared you one time and you hate my guts and torture me for years? I apologised for doing it a million times!" he yelled hysterically

"why are you so mad?"

"I was trying to impress you! I have always tried impressing you but you don't get it. you just flip out. I was excited to show you what I could do. I didn't draw or animate for months after that. you hurt my feelings and you didn't even care!" he shouted

"why should I care?" you grilled

"do you seriously have no emotions or feelings whatsoever? it is so pathetic how little empathy you have for others." he scoffed

"feelings are a waste of time and emotions show weakness" you explained dully

"you are" he took a deep breath "a horrible person"

"I'm trying to not hurt your feelings" you said

"you already did! did you seriously think you can treat me like shit and not hurt my feelings!?" he screamed, running his hands down his face in frustration.

"it's not my fault I can't interpret you're emotions, it's nothing personal." you shrugged

"No, it never is with you, is it?! and you can't even apologise, you just come out with an excuse! I'm done with your bullshit. I should've been done a long time ago" he sighed angrily, hitting the pillar he had you against

"why haven't you sooner?"

"Because I love you!" he disclosed loudly "it's kind of hard to just forget those types of feelings for a person and leave"

"you should've told me" you swallowed a lump in your throat

"why do you think I came to your room that night, and even if I did you would've turn me down. every. single. time" he smiled sadly

you didn't know what to say. you couldn't form words. you didn't love emotions, but you couldn't stop them, it was a human right to have feelings.

"I'll see you around, Y/L/N"

he walked away from you one last time.

------------------------------------------------

taglist: THERE ARE SO MUCH OF YOU I SWEAR

@apollo3475 @jiyaisdope @ihrtsabrinaclaudio @kpop-core @xavi-thpe @sammarvel123 @1201pm @ur-mom-is-h0t @barryswifey @ilovethesmiths111 @honey-with-tea @l-3rk @meankim @your-left-sock @thorpin @gx0sty @yayaistime @ygyofoyyxo @users09 @meme-queen-1999 @czeniess @gutterrataesthetic @parkersmyth @absurd-raven @lnnlove @aureliapappa @idccc @sstilinski @beautifuldisasters-things @gengen64 @issy1554 @mxltifxnd0m @spooky-bitch420 @dyhlanobrien @pauphs @soobin-my-beloved @herejustforjj @lovurryy @diorheaven @karagrace @pepswag10 @pockeymcmockey @mogli-bear @finnwantsmefr @ttayl0rswift @error404-energynotfound @renn-pumkin-head @lieutenant-roos @satan1cwh0r3 @sanzusmile @harrys3rdnipp @theprettytragic @aunicornmademedoit @dahliamae @mxgvmiii

I hope I got everybody! I'm sorry if i got everyone! there was so many of you I had to get through.

#xavier thorpe headcannons #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #ajax petropolus #wednesday addams #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #wednesday 2022 #enid sinclair #percy hynes white #jenna ortega #imagine #part 4 #angst #enimies to lovers #enimies to friends to lovers

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sporadicthingcollection · 7 months

Text

Smash or Pass: Part 2/4 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: It's the last stop before the Grand Line and you slink away for a quiet evening. The universe, however, decides to clown on you. Sequel to Kiss, Marry, Kill. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Warnings: Violence, description of injuries. Word Count: ~3.7k.

A/N: Someday I'll figure out the best way to make a tag list on here (if anyone has any experience with that hmu). Hope you enjoy this one~

---

PART 2: In which you lend a helping hand, provide clown care, and tell a joke.

Swords clash. Punches fly. Bodies go flying. The band launches into a rousing up number. You admire their dedication until a chair flies past your head. You should get out of here.

You get to the door, but you stop. Where’s Buggy? He was just right there, but there is now occupied by a man with a big hat and a bear club.

More importantly, why do you care? Well, you know why you care. You just went over this. It’s because you’ve got a stupid little crush. You shouldn’t care but you’re so liquored up that you do. This was probably his plan all along—

A guy comes at you with a sword. You duck beneath him, punch him in the dick, and throw him out the door and into the street. No cheap shots in a bar fight.

And then you see it: a candy cane-striped patch deep in the throng. You skirt the edge of the brawl to get closer to it.

For a drunk guy with no hands, Buggy’s doing pretty well. Kicking, headbutting, body part separating. Cheap shots galore. You suppose it helps that he’s not fighting to win, but to get the hell out of here.

He’s almost at the edge when a mountain of a man hooks him around the neck with a wire of some kind. You expect him to separate his head, but his eyes go wide and he thrashes to no success, scrabbling at the wire.

Oh, that’s bad. Real bad. What do you do? C’mon, girl, think! There’s gotta be a way for you to lend a helping—

Hands! There they are! Smacking into everyone and everything as he tries to recall them. You grab one and then the other. You look around to return them but now there’s a whole scuffle between you and him. Three very large men all whaling on each other. There’s no way you’re getting through that.

“Hey!” you shout. He can’t hear you over the din. “Buggy!”

Still nothing. The pirate pulls tighter. He gasps and struggles.

Somewhere in your brain, you know this is the perfect moment to make a break for it. He’s occupied, won’t see you leave, and can’t follow you back to the ship.

But you can’t leave a man to die just to save your own skin. Especially when the brawl started because he was trying to defend you. C’mon, think of something!

…Oh. Duh.

You take a deep breath. You hold his hands over your head. "Hey, big nose!"

Buggy's head whips towards you as his eyes fly open, burning with white hot rage. It vanishes as he sees your trophies, replaced with awe.

It's a nice look on him.

One hand zips out of your grasp to jab his assailant in the eyes. The other grabs you by the collar.

You shriek as your feet leave the ground, lifting you up and over several dozen brawling sailors. It sets you down gently behind the bar, safe from the throng.

You’ve never flown before. You’re not a fan. But you are grateful, even if he did put you down so far from the exit. “Thanks,” you croak.

The hand shoots you a finger gun. You can practically hear the click of his tongue as the thumb flexes. How’d he hear you over the chaos?

Right next to your ear, a low voice says, “Don’t mention it.”

You scream and throw your elbow back, colliding with something hard. The low voice grunts as you jump away, and you turn to see Buggy clutching his nose.

You grimace. You know how pointy your elbows are. “That’s your own fault, sneaking up on a girl in the middle of a fight.”

He gives you an incredulous glare. “That’s not your line. You’re supposed to say…” He assumes a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, thanks for the help, Captain Buggy! My hero!’”

You really hope you don’t sound like that. “Go soak your head. I saved you!”

He sneers at you, but he strokes his throat. An ugly ring of bruises will certainly be there later. “I had it under control.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m sorry, did you want to be dragged into an alley and used like a two-bit whore—“

A loud crack cuts him off. He blinks, looking more shocked than anything. His eyes roll back, his shoulders slump, and his head lolls forward. The rest of him follows and Captain Buggy, your hero, goes down like a sack of potatoes.

He hits the floor in a big puddle of assorted spirits, making a slap that you can only compare to when a pancake hits the ceiling. It would be funny if...

...actually, it's pretty funny as-is. You wish you were sober enough to commit the sound to memory.

Anyways, a chair in a bar fight really ought to be cheating. Then again, this is a pirate bar. The patrons are pirates. You are pirates. Everyone is pirates. It's pirates all the way down in here.

You catch the chair as it swings at you, and you see your assailant is, in fact, not a pirate. It’s the bar matron, scowling.

“You,” she grumbles. “This is your fault, you know that?”

“I didn’t ask him to help.” You yank the chair from her hands and toss it away. “And I didn’t ask to get felt up.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that what…?” She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Guess I can’t be too surprised about that. The boys have been spoiling to fight all night.” She looks down at Buggy. “Sorry ‘bout your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. You really hate that you don’t hate the sound of that. But that would eventually make you Mrs the Clown and that you cannot abide by.

You wrinkle your nose. “Not my boyfriend.”

She scoffs. “Man started a brawl for you. It’s only a matter of time.” She kneels down and hooks her arms under his shoulders. “There’s a room upstairs we can stash him in. Grab his legs.”

You do so. On three, you both heave up… and he separates in the middle. The bar matron gasps in horror.

In his maybe-concussed definitely-drunk stupor, Buggy giggles. It’s kind of cute. Not at all menacing the way it’s been before. High-pitched. A bit like a weathervane squeaking in the breeze.

“Pull yourself together, dickhead,” you say. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Devil Fruit,” you say to the matron. “I’ll be right behind.”

Carrying a pair of legs is far more difficult than you expected. You can’t pick them up bridal style. Dragging them by the ankles is no good, either. You resort to throwing them over your shoulders, one leg on either side of your neck with your hands on his shins. An inelegant solution, but the only one you’ve got.

You’re halfway up the stairs when you feel something twitch against your head. Something hard. Something stiff. Something that seems like it’s pretty thick, based on the weight against your ear.

Your cheeks burst into flames. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Buggy’s cock. Don’t think about how you were wrong about Buggy having a small cock.

The matron leads you to a small room right under the roof. A bed, a trunk, and a dry sink with a wash basin are the only furniture, but a marvelous view of the harbor from the window makes up for it. If it wasn’t dark, you could probably see the Merry from here.

She tosses her half of Buggy onto the bed. You follow suit. The mattress squeaks as they bounce and, with a pop, the twain meet and he’s a whole man again.

“Devil Fruits,” the matron mutters, shaking her head. She turns to you. “You can stay here ‘til he’s well enough to walk, but I want you gone by morning. Got it?”

You nod, only to grimace. “I, uh, don’t have much money. I don’t think he does, either.”

She waves her hand as she exits. “Just don’t come back and I won’t collect.”

You realize a problem. “Th-There’s only one bed.”

“One of you can sleep on the floor.”

The door closes. You are left alone with the muffled sounds of a brawl, the rhythmic breathing of a mostly unconscious clown, and your own turbulent thoughts.

Again, you are presented with an opportunity to leave. Can’t follow you if he’s out cold. Save your friends. Save your ship. Save yourself.

And again, you hesitate. He drank a lot with you. And you did laugh quite a bit. And dancing with him was like floating — the good kind, not the kind with disembodied hands. And he whacked some guys about to manhandle you. And then he pulled you out of the fight.

How was it he had described you? Back on the Merry, when he read you like a picture book? ‘Once bitten, twice shy, but when he comes around a third time, you just can’t help yourself.’

Boy howdy, do you hate how accurate that is.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t moved since he hit the bed. You pat his cheek. “You alright?”

He stirs slightly. “Mfmn.”

That’s not good. With a sigh, you put on your triage hat. Seeing as how he got bashed on the noggin, might as well start there. "Sit up.”

He mutters something incomprehensible, but doesn't fight you as you guide him into a sitting position against the headboard. It takes a moment to untie his bandanna.

You're expecting sensibly short hair. Or perhaps missed-a-few-trims-touching-his-earlobes medium-ish hair. Maybe even brushing his shoulders in what guys consider long.

But no. What you get is honest-to-god long hair, textured by salt water and adorned with little plaits, flowing out of the bandana and waterfalling down his back. In need of a good brushing, perhaps, but otherwise healthy.

You want to run your nails through it. Twirl a few strands around your finger. Pull a comb through it. Cut a lock to braid into a rope bracelet, the kind sailors give to their sweethearts to remember them by—

You give your head a good shake. Where did that come from? That’s weird. Don’t do that.

Gently, you part his hair to inspect the scalp. A few small cuts, but nothing worth wasting gauze on. A nasty lump, though. That'll for sure hurt in the morning.

Satisfied, you let his hair fall. His face is next, but this literal clown makeup makes it hard to tell what's blood and what's not. Rummaging around in your satchel, you pull out your rubbing alcohol and a gauze pad and dab away.

It doesn’t come off easy — this is definitely the good shit — but you get enough off. Barefaced Buggy isn’t much different than the regular one, just less obfuscated by whacky colors. High cheekbones. Strong, stubbly jaw. Cleft chin. He'd be handsome if it weren't for the nose… or maybe he is anyways? Some cultures like big noses. And you know what they say about guys with big noses—

Nope. No. Knock it off. Gonna behave yourself? Good. Back to work. Where were you again?

Nose. Right. Speaking of which, you're still not convinced it's not real. The intrusive thoughts win this time and you give it a pinch and a pull.

It's real. He gasps and snatches you by the wrist as his eyes pop open, wide and darting around. They’re the color of a calm river on a cloudy day, though the river is rough at the moment. Why does such a repulsive man have such pretty eyes?

"Easy, easy," you say. "I'm just checking you out— up."

If he heard the slip, he ignores it. After a moment, he drops your hand and lays back with a sigh. "W'happen?"

A few spots of blood stick to your fingers, coming from a small cut down the middle of his nose. You couldn't tell on account of the... well, everything about it. "Someone got you from behind with a chair." You go to dab at the cut. "Knocked you out cold. Smashed your face on the floor and gave you a bloody nose."

The rage returns. He snatches your wrist again. "What about my nose?" he growls, voice raw.

On one hand, you like that husky tone. On the other, this rubbing alcohol is stinging your fingers and you're not going to entertain his insecurities. "You landed right on it. A schnoz that big and it didn't do a damn thing to break your fall."

He does not like that. He squeezes tight enough to hurt and pulls you in closer. The river in his eyes whirls and churns. "You're talking a lot of shit for someone all alone in a room with Buggy the Clown."

Not a single word of excrement has left your mouth. "And you're talking too much shit for someone with a busted nose," you spit. "You want it to get infected? Scar up? It'll look even worse."

It's blunt, but you're right. And you know he knows you're right. He's a fool, but he's not foolish enough to not listen to a professional.

What you don't expect is the way his face drops for a moment. All of the anger, all of the bluster, all of it gone. All that remains is a boy with shocked eyes. Hurt eyes. Vulnerable eyes.

But only for a moment. The walls go back up and the angry man returns, albeit at a simmer and not a boil. He drops your wrist and scowls, avoiding your gaze.

Your stomach sinks. Being snippy is one thing, but you don't like being mean by accident. Even to a jerkoff like him.

With a gentle touch, you take his jaw. "This'll sting," you say as you press the pad to his nose.

He hisses, but doesn't pull away. "How bad is it?"

Now that the blood's gone, not bad at all. "Just a scratch. Won't even need a bandage."

He fixes his gaze somewhere past you. “Shame.”

And you continue to feel bad. It doesn’t look that bad on him. You were right earlier. It does suit him. You discard the pad. “Sorry ‘bout what I said,” you say. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

Buggy he continues to look past you. He waves his hand, only to flinch. He tries to hide it with a scoff.

Your soft eyes don’t miss. “Give it here.”

He huffs and grabs the injured hand with the other, yanking it off at the wrist. He plops it in your own hand and crosses his arms.

You almost laugh. But you hold it back.

You pull his glove off, revealing calloused fingers and shredded nails. When the seas get rough, he works the ropes with everyone else. And he's been at it awhile.

"You're a career sailor," you say. You're not sure why you're surprised.

“Only trade I know,” he says.

Fingerbones intact, if not a little bruised at the knuckles. "Piracy pay that well?”

He gives a bitter smile. “You’d be surprised what you make in tips.”

Maybe you’re just drunk or maybe that was actually kinda funny. Regardless, a laugh almost manages to escape this time. Almost. You catch it in time for it to turn into a weird snorting sound.

The bitterness evaporates like mist in the morning sun as he finally turns his gaze on you. His smile brightens his whole face, scrunching the rivers of his eyes into little oxbow lakes.

Yep. He’s handsome. That little crush burns in your chest.

You swallow some infatuation-flavored bile. "Take your shirt off," you say. "Wanna— Wanna check your ribs."

He regards you for a moment. Wordlessly, he pulls his scarf from his neck and tosses it to the floor. Next goes the sash-belt thing. Finally, he shrugs out of the vest.

You're not sure what you're expecting. A sea of scars, perhaps? The mottled, diseased skin of a syphilitic sailor? A gaping void where his heart ought to be?

No. What you get is an expanse of smooth skin, dipping and rising with mountains and valleys of lean muscles. Hair covers his pectorals, thickest on his sternum. A soft belly pushes against his waistband as he breathes — not a gut by any means, but a logical consequence of indulging one's every desire. A thin trail of fuzz leads down below his trousers, growing thicker as it dips below. The carpet matches the drapes, apparently...

Your cheeks heat up. Don't even think about it, girl. Just check him out and be on your way— up. Check him up.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" you ask. You trail your fingers down his ribs, gently poking and prodding.

"Not particularly." Pressing the side of his pec makes him hiss. “Alright, maybe there.”

You lift his arm — his hard, wiry arm — and lean in close. A bit of a bruise is blooming, but it doesn’t look too serious. What is serious is how distracting the smell of fresh sweat is.

His sweat. On his skin. Glistening. Like dew. Musky. Tangy. Tasty.

He says something and it doesn’t even register. The thoughts drown him out. Do it, they say. Stick your face in there.

A light poke to your cheek yanks you out of your… whatever the hell that was. You turn to see his hand hovering. Its fingers wiggle in a wave. “Hello? Anyone aboard?”

You shake your head hard enough that you can feel your brain bouncing around. “Sorry. Thinking about contusions.”

“Should I be worried or not?”

You press your thumb into the bruise. “Does it hurt to breathe?”

He squeaks like a mouse. “When you’re doing that, yeah!”

The sound of pain is a big turn-off for you, which is exactly what you need right now. You jam your finger against the bruise one more time just to hear him yelp. “You’re fine.”

You drop his arm. You try to move away as quickly as possible while still looking casual and not tripping over yourself. You fail and land on your ass. Not hard enough to hurt, but an uff escapes you all the same.

Buggy giggles, peering down at you. “I love a good pratfall.”

He looks good from this angle. Above you. That worries you. “You’re completely fine. Worst thing you’ll have in the morning is a lump and a hangover.”

His brow wrinkles. “Not gonna check out my legs?”

Oh, you’ve already spent plenty of time checking out his legs. Nice boots. Muscular thighs. Trying to figure out if the bulge in the crotch was fabric or something else.

You grab the edge of the bed and haul yourself up onto it. “Do they hurt?”

“Sister, all of me hurts.”

You sigh. “Bring your knees to your chest. First one, then the other.”

His left knee joint pops out from its rightful spot on his leg. He presses it to his chest, then repeats the action with the other. He looks at you expectantly. “Now what?”

A banged-up half-naked clown, sitting on a bed, holding his knees in his hands. The situation is amusing enough, but something in his expression, the tone of his voice… it breaks you.

You slide from the bed back onto the floor as loud, cackling peals burst forth like floodwaters through a dam.

It feels good to laugh so hard. It hurts your ribs, your stomach, and your cheeks, but it's a good hurt.

The fit subsides, leaving you flopped on your back, arm slung over your eyes, trying to catch your breath. A few giggles bubble forth, and you do your best to swallow them.

You fling your arm from your eyes to see Buggy gazing down at you, resting his head on his arm, eyes scrunched up. “Didn’t think that one would get you."

“Shut up.” You climb up to your knees. “And stop making me laugh.”

“But you’re so cute when you laugh.”

You snort. “You tried that one earlier.”

Buggy frowns. Deeply. He moves his head to his fist, leaving his gaze level with your own. “But I meant it.”

“You’re full of bird shit.”

You try to move away, but he grabs your arm and guides you back down. He stares right into your eyes, straight into your soul. “I meant it,” he says firmly.

For a moment, you believe him. Your voice of self-doubt is silenced. The voice of what an unladylike laugh. No man could ever find that attractive. How do you expect to get a husband sounding like that?

His voice disturbs your ruminating. "Y’know, if you join my crew," he says, "you can laugh like that all you want. As loud as you want. Whenever you want."

It's probably the alcohol. It's probably because he's half naked. It's probably because you're a weak woman. Whatever the reason may be, to your horror, you do consider it.

It could be a good time. You enjoy his company. You enjoy laughing. You enjoy adventures and making mischief and romance. Both the kind with the wind in your sails and the kind with a man in your arms.

Perhaps even this man.

But you can't. You know you can't. He’s cruel. He’s crazy. You couldn't live with yourself if you betrayed your friends. Not to mention that there'd be no escape if it all went wrong.

In your moment of weakness, he slips a finger under your chin. Millimeter by millimeter, he guides you closer. His eyes drift shut as his nose bumps yours.

Don’t do this, your good sense screams. You’re drunk. He’s drunk. Stop thinking with your snatch. Don’t—

The slightest bit of nerves quiver in his voice. “Something wrong…?”

Everything. “Nothing.”

You push forward and finally, finally, your lips meet his.

It’s nothing like your previous kisses, sudden and sloppy. This one is slow. Measured. Gently crackling like the soft flame of a low fire, radiating warmth.

A featherlight moan escapes him as you pull away. His eyes search your face, bracing himself, waiting for something, hoping in vain that he won't find it.

You lay a hand on his jaw, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “What is it?”

His gaze drifts to the side as he inhales sharply. “Waiting for the punchline.” He swallows. “No way something this good could happen to me.”

This poor, pathetic man after your own heart. “I got a punchline for you. What did the sawbones say to the clown?”

Shining eyes peer at you. “I dunno. What did the sawbones say to the clown?”

“She said...” You lean in close. “‘Kiss me again.’”

Those eyes go wide.

---

Part the 3rd goes up Thursday!

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #kiss marry kill #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #smash or pass #the curious courtship of buggy the clown

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doudouneverte · 5 months

Text

Back to Home | Chapter four: Phantom from the past and the future

a/n: I think we can say "here we go again"

Pairing this chap: Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader; Wanda Maximoff x teen!reader; Avengers x teen!reader

Summary: you're separate from your moms and she's separate from her sons, and even if the avengers are against it the meeting is inevitable

Warning: @g-athenaathens @darkstar225

Tag list:

Chapter Three | Serie Masterlist | Chapter Five

----------

'"Why are you doing this? I'm sixteen now; I can't be stuck in my room like a prisoner all my life." You yelled to your moms.

"Hey! Don't raise your tone with me, little one." Natasha said.

"Girls, calm down, please." Wanda tried to appease the tension. "Nat, you know she's exactly like you, so don't give her any reason to scream more than necessary. And Y/n, baby girl, we already talked about this."

"But why? It's not like I can't defend myself. I didn't train with you two to just stay all my life in school." You argued.

"We don't train you to be a hero, but to protect yourself. We don't want you to be hurt." The sokovian said, and you rolled your eyes with a loud groan.

"Not this card again. It's always the same thing with you."

"Where did you get this attitude?" Nat raised her voice. It started to really become something bad.

"Nat please…"

"No, no. I'll not let her talk like that. Hear me out if we say no avengers mission for you; that means NO AVENGERS MISSION FOR YOU." You looked at her, then at Wanda, but when the witch nodded, you snapped.

You turned around and walked straight to your bedroom, slammed the door, and used your power to lock it.

In the living room, Wanda had to block the redhead to rush to your room.

"How can she be so stubborn?" The Russian asked no one.

"I think from who she got that." The Maximoff twin remarked. "But don't worry, she'll be back when she's hungry, and we will try to talk about it more carefully this time."

The redhead sighed before crashing down on the couch. "I hope you're right. I don't want her to be hurt, but it will be worse if she hates us forever." She said with a defeated expression.

"Don't worry, it's just a phase; it will pass… I think." Her wife said after sitting next to her.

"Sometime I feel like I'm not the mother she deserves." The ex-spy confessed.

"Hey, don't say that. You're exactly the mom she deserves. We couldn't be a family without you."'

Some footsteps stop in front of your cell, making you raise your head. And when you thought nothing could be worse, you totally forgot about that.

You just stared at the woman in front of you without saying anything. Thankfully or not, she didn't seem to want to be the one to engage in any conversation. The atmosphere started to be tense until you both heard new footsteps. You knew them like the back of your hand, and it was the same for the other woman.

"Hello Wanda." Natasha greeted her, earning a shocking expression from the Sokovian.

"But how?" The witch asked quietly.

"It's a long story, but we'll talk about it later. First, I need you to follow me." The Russian said. You recognized that's tone. It was the 'Russian irritated spy tone' that meant that whatever was happening, you knew that they had a lot to say.

~~~~

In the meeting room, the atmosphere was tense. Wanda was there in front of the people she could almost call family a few years ago, but now... Now, a lot of things have changed. She lost the last thing that made her smile when she lost Vision, and when she tried to find some comfort alone when everyone left her, everybody seemed to be against that.

Steve took a deep breath, earning almost the attention of everyone. But he was not the one who talked first. "So, are we just staying there and looking at each other?" Sam asked.

"We are waiting for someone." Steve announced, earning a curious look from Wanda, but the Sokovian didn't have time to ask anything before she heard footsteps entering the room. Furry came and sat in front of the witch while everyone still stood, a little unsure of how to act in front of their ex-coworker.

"I hope you didn't lose yourself coming here, Maximoff. You didn't write us any letters, so I thought that maybe you forgot about us." The one-eyed man said.

"I'm not the one who gave up on you." The now ginger woman replied.

"I like the new look, by the way." He said completly ignoring her acusation. "I don't know if any of them told you why you are here." When the woman shook her head to say no, he nodded and showed her the footage of your intrusion. "As you can see, we recently received the visit of a strange girl who said she was..." He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to find the missing word.

"She said her name was Scarlet." Natasha finished.

"That's right, thank you, Romanoff. Yes, she said her name was Scarlet, but it's not the strangest thing. Look at this." He said showing her when you used your powers to knock down the mightiest heroes. "See, I don't really believe in hazards. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that she had anything to do with you. At least until you prove me the opposite."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Wanda asked, even if she knew.

"I need you to investigate her mind to know what she wants. She said that she wanted to go back 'home, but I think she may hide something from us. Like, why does she fight perfectly like one of my best agents, or why does she actually have some power similar to  yours?"He explained. "I'll let you two weeks to resolve this mystery." He said while he made his way out of the room.

"And why should I do this?" Wanda asked, making the man stop and look at her.

"We both know that the young Maximoff is somewhere here, and I'm sure that she didn't give up the idea to help people. Roger will show you your new room." He said, finally, before leaving for good. The silence quiclky filled the room, making the Sokovian a little nervous.

~~~~

You were lying on your bed trying to process what happened when you heard someone stop in front of the door. You didn't have time to look at them before the door opened, and they entered.

"I never thought that someone would resume Dreykov's work." They said while you sat up to look at them. "I don't know if you know me, so let me introduce myself. I'm…"

"Nick Furry. I already know you." You replied, making the man in front of you chuckle.

"And who are you? Except Scarlet Widow."

"What do you mean?"

"I led the biggest group of spies in this country; do you really think that I will content myself with a false alias?"

"You led it so well that you didn't know that some Hydra agents were in your rank." You mocked.

"Oh, a funny one, I see." He paused for a moment to analyze you. "I don't know who tried to copy Romanoff, but I need to assume that they conditioned you well." He said, making you look confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not here to kill her because you would already try it when you came here." He continued ignoring your interogation.

"You didn't rep-"

"Maybe they sent you to kill Wanda and take her place as one of the Avengers."

"Can you stop-"

"Except your eyes, you look like a perfect mix between them. It's really impressive. And do you know what is more impressive? You don't seem to care about being trapped here. I don't know what Barton did to your little weapon, but it sent a signal somewhere far away, almost too far to be caught." He stated.

"But you did." You finshed now totally serious.

"It's obvious that you're not from here, so what are you? A khree? A Skrull?"

"I'm a human!"

He stood up and looked around before making his way to the door. "We all have our secret Ms.Scarlet but they will never last forever." He informed you before leaving.

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month

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Let's Talk About That Chapter 8

Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: The team discusses what to do about Thanos

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning: Mostly angst, but some fluff too!

A/N: Writing through Infinity War has been a hell of a journey and I still have more to do!

"Hello secretary." Steve said to the hologram of secretary Ross as we entered the compound. You held Natasha’s hand with Wanda and Vision behind you.

"You have some nerve coming here." Secretary Ross spoke.

"Looks like you could use some of that right about now." Natasha stated bluntly.

"The world's on fire and you think all's forgiven?" Ross asks Steve.

"I'm not looking for forgiveness and I'm way past asking for permission. Earth just lost her best defender so we're here to fight and if you want to stand in our way then we can fight you too." Steve stated to Ross who turned his attention to Rhodey.

"Aresst them." Ross said.

"Will do." Rhodey pushed the holograms effectively ending the virtual call.

"That sounded like a court marshal." Rhodey stated flatly before smiling. "It's good to see you Cap." Holding out his hand which Cap shook. Then Natasha let go of your hand giving Rhodey a hug.

"Well you guys all look like crap." Rhodey jokes and you let out a chuckle.

"You should have seen the other guys. I got there and they ran with their tails between their legs." You told him a big smile on your face.

"Went all power stone on then didn't you?" You nodded, earning a hair ruffle from Rhodey.

"Of course they were hurting people I care about." You looked back at Wanda and Vision with a smile. "No one gets away with hurting the people I care about."

"I think you guys look great." You hear as you turn your head to the familiar voice of Bruce. Natasha doesn't move, but you do, running up to hug him.

"Missed you big guy. Both of you." You say as he picks you up.

"Missed you little lady."

"Hi Bruce." Natasha speaks and you let go looking back at her. The faintest smile in the corners of her lips.

"Nat." He does a nod of his head.

You run back over to Tasha. "Go." You whisper through your teeth. She shakes her head ever so slightly. "If I did it you can do it. Go." You move behind her and push her. Making her stumble forward, Bruce catching her as you move back next to Wanda and sigh. "Young love...or old...I'm not quite sure anymore with those two." You state to the now red head, last you had seen her Wanda still had brunette hair.

As you glanced back at Natasha and Bruce, a sense of hope flickered within you, a reminder that even amidst chaos and uncertainty, love and connection could endure, serving as a beacon of light in the darkness.

When Vision is taken by Bruce to be examined and Nat talks with Steve, Rhodey, and Sam, Wanda pulls you away into the compound. You trail behind her, relishing in the way her hand feels in yours. You had missed how it felt; almost forgot how it felt actually.

You don't realize it until she opens the door that she's taken you to your office. She looked back at you and gave a small smile as she sat on the couch like she always used to. You walk to your desk, seeing everything as you had left it. Your notebook for Wanda sitting there. You smile, picking it up along with the red pen you always used for her notes, testing the pen to make sure it still works.

You move back over sitting across from her, clicking your pen as you look at her over your glasses.

"Are you happier with her?" Wanda asks, making your throat dry up instantly. It felt hard to swallow, hard to breath.

"Don't make me answer that." You manage to say.

"Why? 'Cause it's true?"

"You know it's not. I love Natasha. Truly I do, but I'm not happier with her. The only thing that makes me happier is knowing she's made me a better person for you if you can ever give me a second chance and if not. I'll settle for her." You tell her flat out, putting your feelings out there. "My heart has always been yours."

"Does she know that?"

"Of course she does. She's not stupid." You respond with a slight bite to your words as you write in your note book.

Feeling a need to lay bare the depth of your feelings, you flipped through the pages of the notebook, searching for a particular entry. As you found the right page, you turned the notebook toward Wanda, revealing a love note you had penned after she returned from Lagos, a moment etched in my memory where she broke down, finding solace in your arms.

The emotions spilled across the page, a raw expression of love, hurt, and comfort. You saw the reflection of those sentiments in Wanda's eyes as tears glistened, capturing the spectrum of her feelings in a poignant dance of colors. The room held a heavy silence, interrupted only by the quiet sobs that reverberated between the two of you, bridging the gap between past and present.

"You took my hurt away...?" Wanda's voice was soft, laced with disbelief and a hint of wonder. You nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of your actions settle heavily on your shoulders.

"I know I said I'd never do it without your permission, but I had to take some of it. I could see it overtaking you. It was bitter and tasted like bile," You explained, a shiver coursing through you at the memory. "You know I don't like eating emotions, especially negative ones."

Wanda nodded in understanding before rising from her seat, crossing the space between you until your knees touched. Her touch was gentle as she cupped your cheek, coaxing you to meet her gaze. You hesitated, but her commanding tone compelled you to look into her deep green eyes, the same eyes you had always found solace in.

"Hey. Look at me," she urged softly, her voice carrying a mixture of warmth and familiarity. You met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as your eyes locked.

"I missed the fuck out of you. I was upset with you about that jealous outburst, but you were just a kid still, and I forgot that along the way because you're you and so smart and mature," she confessed, her words washing over you like a soothing balm. You leaned into her touch, finally allowing yourself to relax in her presence.

"I'm sorry for what happened to us two years ago, Y/N," Wanda apologized, her voice laced with genuine remorse. You smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her hand in response.

"I'm sorry too, Wanda. If it hadn't been for those stupid accords..."

"We don't know what could have or would have happened, Y/N, and we shouldn't dwell on that. All we can do is move forward and see where that takes us," she reassured you, her words resonating deeply within you.

You nodded in agreement, pulling her into a tight hug, reveling in the familiar warmth of her embrace. As you buried your face in her neck, you breathed in her intoxicating scent of vanilla, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Opening your eyes, you saw the telltale red aura surrounding her, a manifestation of love and passion that stirred something deep within you. With a smile, you allowed yourself to fully embrace the moment, knowing that your journey forward held endless possibilities.

"Vision and I have a connection through the mind stone, and I do love him just like how I know you love Nat. What you and I had, I will always hold close, but I can't just leave Vision," Wanda's words cut through you like a knife, each syllable piercing deeper into your heart.

You struggled to find a response, your mind reeling with a mix of emotions—heartache, disappointment, and a lingering sense of resignation. Before you could gather your thoughts to form a coherent reply, Tasha's voice interrupted the heavy silence, drawing your attention to the doorway where she stood.

"Figured I'd find you two here. Time for a meeting on what we're going to be doing," Tasha announced, her presence offering a temporary respite from the weight of the conversation.

You stood up at Tasha's words, leaving Wanda behind in the office. Tasha pulled you close, her kiss on your cheek a fleeting reassurance amidst the turmoil brewing inside you. Her whispered question echoed in your ear, and you offered only a small shrug in response as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"We'll talk later, okay?" You assured Tasha, and she simply nodded in understanding as Wanda joined you, her presence feeling like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You didn't pay much attention to her, but you noticed Tasha's subtle glance back at Wanda, a silent warning simmering beneath the surface of her gaze. If looks could kill, Wanda would be dead from whatever Tasha had conveyed in that single glance.

"So we gotta assume they're coming back, right?" Bruce asks, his tone laced with concern as he scans the room for answers.

"And they can clearly find us," Wanda reminds the group, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency.

"We need all hands on deck. Where's Clint?" Bruce inquires, his gaze sweeping the room for any sign of the absent Avenger.

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families. They're on house arrest," Nat explains to Bruce, filling him in on the latest developments.

"Who's Scott?" Bruce's confusion is palpable as he seeks clarification.

"Ant-Man," Cap offers, providing the missing link.

"There's an Ant-Man and a Spider-Man?" Bruce's incredulity is evident as he processes the information.

"Look, Thanos has the biggest army in the universe... and he is not gonna stop until he gets..." Bruce's voice trails off, his gaze shifting between Vision and you, hesitating to voice his next words. "Till he gets those stones," he finally concludes, pointing at the two of you.

You feel a surge of anxiety grip you as Bruce's words sink in. Tasha, sensing your unease, moves closer to Bruce, her protective instincts kicking in.

"Well then, we have to protect them," Tasha declares firmly, her eyes darting between Bruce and you, a silent vow of defense.

"No, we have to destroy them," Vision interjects, his tone resolute and unwavering.

You can't help but chuckle at Vision's suggestion, though the humor quickly fades as the gravity of his words settles over you.

"Ha! No. Hell fucking no. I don't plan on dying, or did you forget I said that? I will die without the stone," You retort, your defiance clear to everyone in the room, especially Vision.

"I've given this a great deal of thought, Y/N. I do not say it lightly, but if he does get his hands on these stones... especially yours, he'll be unstoppable," Vision insists, meeting your gaze with a solemn intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

You struggle to catch my breath, the weight of Vision's words bearing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Your hand instinctively reaches for your chest, as if seeking reassurance from the stone that rests within you.

"I've thought about the nature of my stone, along with yours and some of the last words you said while we were allies. Knowing what your stone is capable of. We must destroy them and I think if they were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source," Vision explains, his voice tinged with determination as he approaches Wanda.

You rise from your spot, brushing off Tasha's attempt to stop you, and step closer, feeling Wanda's eyes flicker to you before returning to Vision, who gently places his hands on her arms. "Something very similar to their own signature perhaps," he continues, his touch reminiscent of the way you used to hold her, though his hands are much larger than your own. "Its molecular integrity could fail."

"Yeah, and both of you with it," Wanda responds, her gaze shifting between Vision and you. "We aren't having this discussion. It's too high a price to lose both of you," she declares firmly, trying to contain her frustration.

Vision's hands move to Wanda's cheeks, holding her gently, but she steps away from him, her resolve evident. You move closer to her, feeling the tension in the air thickening.

"Y/N, don't," You hear the tremor in her voice, the raw emotion threatening to spill over.

You bite the inside of my cheek, grappling with the gravity of the situation. "Wanda," You address her firmly, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. "If you refuse... I will take Vision's stone out of his head because I know I can, and I will personally crush it, and then my own if that is our last resort," You declare, your tone unyielding. "And I will do it in front of you," You add, squeezing her shoulder for emphasis. "I don't say this lightly because I'd rather not die. I personally think that between the three of us we can take him down, but if you won't do it, I will," You assert, speaking with a deadly seriousness before returning to your spot, your heart heavy with the weight of your words.

"I won't entertain the idea of trading lives," Cap asserts firmly.

"Seventy years ago, you laid down your life to save how many millions of people?" Vision responds, his voice carrying a weight of history. You tune out their exchange, feeling a sense of unease settling over you. You lean forward, pulling Tasha back to you, seeking comfort in her presence. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you settle her between your legs, resting your chin on her shoulder as you gaze at Wanda. Regret and guilt weigh heavy on your heart, and you grip Tasha tighter until she makes a small noise of discomfort. Quickly, you release your hold, whispering an apology.

"Sorry..." You murmur softly, your voice barely audible.

Tasha responds with a gentle pat on your arm, understanding in her touch. "It's okay, Y/N," she whispers back.

As Bruce delves into an explanation about Vision's complex composition, your brows furrow in confusion. "What?" You whisper, turning to Bruce. "How did I not know there's parts of me in him?" You ask, bewildered by the revelation.

"Tony put everything of you that Jarvis collected over the years of your sessions," Bruce explains matter-of-factly.

"Good to know my sessions were private," You mutter sarcastically against Tasha's shoulder.

"You're saying Vision isn't just the stone?" Wanda interjects, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

"I'm saying that if we take out the stone, there is still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts," Bruce elaborates, prompting a moment of contemplative silence.

"What about me?" You inquire, releasing Tasha and standing up once more, your emotions bubbling to the surface. "You told me years ago that this stone is attached. It's wrapped around my lungs and my heart. If we take it out of me..." Your voice cracks, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I will die," You confess, your vulnerability laid bare for all to see.

Bruce places his hands on your shoulders, offering reassurance as you struggle to maintain composure. "I've thought about it a lot over the years, and I was thinking maybe, similar to Tony, we could do an open-heart surgery. Open you up and basically cut away the tendrils that the stone has put around your heart and lungs. Take the stone out and put an arc reactor in its place to keep you going," he suggests, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"D-do you think we can do that?" Tasha's voice quivers with fear and concern.

"Not me. Not here," Bruce replies solemnly, withdrawing his hands as you retreat back to Tasha's embrace.

"Well, you better find someone and somewhere fast," Rhodes interjects, breaking the somber atmosphere with a practical reminder.

"I know somewhere," Cap offers, his voice cutting through the tension with a sense of urgency.

As you holed yourself away in the small room of the Quinjet, facing the wall to hide your tears, the weight of your emotions overwhelmed you. Sobs wracked your body, your throat burning with the effort to contain your grief. In moments like these, you longed for the ability to numb your own emotions, to escape the pain that threatened to consume you.

A knock at the door startled you, and you called out for whoever it was to go away. Despite your plea, the door opened, and you tensed, expecting Tasha's presence. Yet, as the cot beside you shifted, you realized it was someone else. you didn't dare look, even when I felt soft lips press against the back of my shoulder, and tears dampened my shirt.

"I can't lose you," came the whispered confession, confirming your suspicion that it was Wanda behind you.

"Why not? You have Vision," you replied, your voice strained and cracked from crying.

"I do, but I don't want to lose you. You're too important. I meant what I said," Wanda insisted, her arm tightening around you as she pulled you closer.

"It's too high a price," she added, sending a shiver down your spine. You reached out, placing your hand over hers, and then turned to face her, allowing her to pull you into her embrace.

"Come here," You whispered, giving in to the flood of emotions as you cried in her arms. "Wands, I don't want to die... I know we're Avengers, but I'm terrified of death," You confessed, your tears flowing freely as she rubbed your back in a comforting gesture, mirroring the care you had shown her countless times before.

"I won't let that happen. I promise," Wanda whispered soothingly. "Just rest for now. We'll be in Wakanda soon enough, and I don't want you thinking about it anymore."

Looking up at her, you found the courage to ask something you had never asked before, a desperate plea born out of fear and desperation. "Can you take it away? Can you make me forget it?"

Wanda cupped your cheek, her touch gentle yet determined as she searched through your thoughts, sensing the depth of your distress. With a nod, she moved her fingers to your temples, her crimson tendrils reaching out as you closed your eyes, surrendering to her power.

"Shhhh, don't worry anymore, Detka... rest now," were the last words you heard, and you swore you felt her lips brush against yours before sleep claimed you, offering temporary respite from the weight of your fears.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #wandavision #wanda maximoff fluff

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familyvideostevie · 1 year

Text

a warm horizon

this was the second most voted from this poll, hope you enjoy! springtime with steve | fem!reader, 1k

"I'm telling you, it swelled up to the size of a...a...golf ball. No, a baseball. Right on my wrist, which made it impossible to actually play baseball for like, two weeks. " Steve's hands gesticulate wildly as he pantomimes something much larger than a baseball appearing at the base of his thumb. You look down at where his head rests in your lap and she that his eyebrows are furrowed in genuine angst. "And it hurt. So, yeah, excuse me if I swat at a bee when I see one."

"Swatting at them just makes them mad," you tell him, leaning back on your hands and casting your gaze to the blue sky. You should have brought your sunglasses. Silly boy, you think. Afraid of bees, of all things.

"Swatting at them gets them away from me for long enough to run back to the safety of my car."

The spring breeze blows through the now-green grass of the hill and catches one of the edges of your blanket, flipping it over. You can't bring yourself to move to fix it. "And you'll abandon me?"

"Sorry, babe," Steve says. You look down again to find him grinning at you. His eyes sparkle in the sunshine."They don't come after you like they do me. I'm like honey, or something."

You flick his nose and he swats at you as if you're the offending insect."No idea why, since I'm much sweeter than you."

Steve pouts and you laugh. "Brutal. You're hanging out with Dustin too much."

You lower yourself to your elbows and then your back so that you're just as sprawled on the blanket as he is. "S'what you get for abandoning me to nature, Steve." Huge, fluffy clouds amble across the sky above you. Everything seems more beautiful, more alive during the first few weeks of spring. Everyone laughs a little louder and walks around with a spring in their step.

"I wouldn't actually abandon you," Steve says. "You might have to defend me, though. I'm serious, I think I'm allergic or something."

"I can do that," you say. "I'll protect you from the big, bad bees." Steve snorts.

"Alright, alright, I get it. They're just bugs." You reach down blindly to slide your hand into his hair as a somewhat sincere apology for making fun of him. He does handle pretty much every other critter fairly well -- he is a little freaked out by butterflies but lets you stop him when you see one on your walks. He catches fireflies with the kids and even takes spiders outside if you ask him to. But your handsome, brave, incredible boyfriend isn't at his best this time of year.

"How's your hay fever?" you ask, eyes closing to enjoy the sunshine. On cue, he sniffs.

"Fine. The new pill I got at the pharmacy last week doesn't make me sleepy, which is nice." But then he sneezes. "Shit." He sneezes again.

"I have tissues in my bag." The weight of his head disappears from your lap and you hear him rummage through your things. He'll be fine in a few weeks when everything stops blooming but until then you try to carry around anything he might need.

"Don't open your eyes," he says. "This is gross." It sounds more like "gwoss" as he blows his nose.

"Oh, you think I don't find my snotty boyfriend cute?" Steve ignores you and settles back on top of you, his head higher up on your stomach this time. He likes to feel you breathe.

"Spring is bullshit," he says without any real venom.

"It's not all bad," you chastise him. "The sun is nice. Your hair will get lighter if we spend enough time out here."

He hums. "Well, I do get to see more of your legs." You feel his hand squeeze your thigh.

"Steve!" He's impossible. You tilt your chin so you can see him only to find him grinning up at you just like before, only now his nostrils are a little red. He is still so handsome it makes your chest ache. "You know very well you get to see them whenever you want."

"Don't I know it." You look away but feel his eyes on you still.

"What?"

"You're extra pretty in the spring," he says. "Just...happier. Lighter." Your face feels hot. It's disarming, sometimes, the way that Steve talks about you. Not only to you with compliments, but to other people. He tells old ladies in the grocery store about promotions you get at work and loudly sings your praises in rooms full of people. You took him shopping last week and when you came out of the dressing room in a new pair of jeans he asked the sales girl how she felt to have the prettiest girl in the world in her store.

He's embarrassing and you love him so much.

"You're extra pretty in the spring," you fire back. He reaches for your hand.

You squeeze and he squeezes back. "I guess we're the greatest looking couple alive."

"Guess so." You wonder if you could fall asleep out here.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

"We're on pickup duty at 4," you remind him. "But I'm happy to stay here for a little while longer." From your spot on the hill, it's easy to imagine that the rest of the world doesn't exist. It's just you and the boy you love on this blanket, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of the sun after a long winter. There are things you have to do, of course, and other people you love who you want to see. But it's nice to pretend, even for just a little bit.

"Me too," Steve says softly.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader

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jpitha · 5 months

Text

Between the Black and Gray

Fen rushed around the corner and slammed her back against the wall, willing herself to be thinner. Station security ran past the alley, their boots clanging on the plates in the floor. Gulping air, Fen tries to slow her breathing.

The comm glued behind her ear buzzed. "Fen, what happened? There are security alerts lighting up the boards looking for you."

Fen winced. She had hoped that she would have had a little longer to try and explain things. "Hey Ma-ren. Sorry. Looks like things got out of hand at Stations End. I uh, might have gotten involved in a small... altercation."

"You were in a bar fight? Fen, what the hell?" Ma-ren managed to sound exasperated even over the bone conduction comm while speaking Levinen.

Fen switched to Colonic. Hardly anyone here spoke the old language and it was easier to talk to Ma-ren in their native tongue. "They were shit talking K'laxi, Ma! I couldn't let that stand. 'Furball' this and 'Cats' that. It was making me so angry!" Fen balled up her fist at the memory, winced when her bruised knuckles complained, and straightened her hand again. "I threw a few punches, tossed a couple Bears, and chucked my chair. It was hardly a fight. Look, I ducked station security, but I need to get off the promenade. I'll keep to the alleys and the maintenance tunnels. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. See you in a bit."

Before Ma-ren could reply, Fen touched the stud on her comm, silencing it. Peering around the corner, she saw that security was looking around. Fen crept further down the alley until she was behind a restaurant. Even here on the station, behind restaurants were messy places. Odd smells, greasy floors and detritus scattered everywhere.

Fen crept behind the restaurant until she came upon a maintenance tunnel. She tried the wheel, but it was stuck fast. "Uh Station? Can you open maintenance door-" she peered at the door and wiped some slimy dirt away "-775-OPR-23?" Fen spoke as quietly as she thought she could get away with.

"Fenchurch Imar, you are not authorized to enter the maintenance tunnels." Station at least had the grace to reply in a low voice matching hers.

"I know Station, but I just need to use it as a shortcut to get home. You saw security, there's no way I'll get treated well if they catch me"

"Fenchurch, I also know why they are chasing you. You tossed two Sefigans and threw a chair at a Gren. All three are in the medical ward."

Fen stopped. She didn't think she had injured anyone. "How badly are they hurt?"

"They will recover. The Sefigans are bruised and the Gren broke one of their legs. You know that you are stronger than both of them. We make it clear to humans when they come onboard."

"I know Station, but you also know how they were bad mouthing K'laxi. They were calling them our pets!"

"Regardless Fenchurch-"

"Please, call me Fen."

"Very well. Regardless Fen, you started a bar fight. Whatever your reasons, security wants to speak to you."

Fen rolled her eyes. "Station you know very well that speaking is the last thing on their minds. They want to shock baton me until I'm a gibbering mess and then toss me into the drunk tank until Ma-ren bails me out and everyone has a good laugh. I'll probably get evicted for good measure."

Station said nothing.

"Well Station? Are you going to open the hatch, or am I going to get arrested, beaten, and humiliated? You know what I did. Does defending my girlfriend warrant all that?"

There was a click, and the hatch bounced off its seals.

"Thanks Station, I owe you."

"You do, Fen."

Fen made it home without further incident. As she approached the stairs she passed an old K'axi, gray around their muzzle, sitting on a folding chair, reading a pad.

"Hey Da'reni. How's things?"

They looked up from their pad and flicked an ear. "Causing trouble again Fen?"

Fen crossed her arms defiantly. "They were shit talking K'laxi, Da'reni. I wasn't going to let that stand."

Da'reni nodded slowly. "I get that Fen, and I appreciate it, but you also have to think about what kind of trouble this will bring down on all of us. The knock-on effects. We're not in the Colony Worlds. Humans and K'laxi are thin on the ground here. You could take anyone here in a fight one on one, but they're in charge. Security can come here and evict us and then what Fen? Spyglass barely made it here, and I know that you can't fix a Starjumper."

Fen sighed. Da'reni was right, but that didn't make what she said feel good. "I know Da'reni, I know. But..." her shoulders slumped. "Okay. I'll try and be more careful."

Da'reni looked down at her pad. "I know you will Fen."

Fen's energy sapped, she walked slowly up the steps until she reached her apartment. Touching the locking stud, the door clicked and she pushed it in. Suddenly, her vision was obscured, and she felt warm fur on her face. Her arms shot up to catch Ma-ren after she jumped onto her. "Hey hon. I thought you might need a hug."

Fen squeezed her girlfriend gently and held her. "You always know just what I need Ma." After a moment she set the K'laxi down. "I talked with Da'reni on the way in."

"Oh? What did that old warhorse have to say?" Ma-reni's tail flicked playfully.

"She warned me about causing trouble. We don't want to get evicted or worse, especially since Spyglass isn't in any condition to thrust away, let alone link anywhere."

Ma-ren nodded. "She has a point Fen. Still, you came to my rescue today and while it might cause trouble, that's part of the reason why I love you.

Fen smiled. "I love you too Ma. You wanna go get dinner?"

Ma laughed. "After the trouble you just caused? I think we'll cook at home tonight."

#humans are deathworlders #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans and aliens #writing #humans and ai #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #between the black and gray

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nervousgardenerkid · 2 years

Text

the other woman is perfect where her rival fails.

a/n: my name is star and i like to break hearts i hope u all enjoy this idk what possessed me to write this but slay! credit to the gif owner!

You knew the minute you fell for Steve it was going to be the biggest mistake of your life, but loving him came so easy to you. He was sweet, charming, and never hesitated to put others before himself, but he just wasn't over nancy.

Loving him was difficult for her. Sometimes she'd love him with everything she had in her, defending him from people talking down on him and comforting him when the arguments with his dad got a little too nasty. Other times, she'd leave him completely in the dark. Her hand leaving his when he tells her how he loves her, giving him a tight-lipped smile before muttering me too. Her shoulders would shrug off his arm when Jonathan came around, her smile brighter than ever.

Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew he was losing her to Jonathan, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to keep her around. He’d shower her with gifts basking in the smiles and kisses she gave him as a thank you, but at night he'd find himself in your arms crying.

“What's wrong with me y/n?” he'd always cry out. You always cry with him. Saying nothing is wrong with him, claiming Nancy is blind if she lets a guy as great as him go. You want to shout it, scream it even. Be with me, Steve. You know for a fact that if he was with you he'd never be in any kind of pain. You'd love him till the end of time no matter what happens, but you'd never tell him that.

When Nancy broke up with him he was a wreck. He refused to come out of his room the first week of the breakup. You'd drop by his house comforting him when you could, dropping off school work he's missed already completed cause you know how he feels. You know how hard it is to simply get out of bed just to take a shower. One day you came by doing your usual routine, you were getting ready to leave when you put your hand on his face rubbing his cheek gently.

“I'll be back tomorrow, okay?” you let out a sigh getting ready to walk out when his hand grabbed yours.

“Stay.” he croaked out. “Please, I- I can't be alone right now.”

You stayed with him all night that night. Weeks went by and you started seeing a glimpse of the old Steve coming back. Your Steve was coming back. He would crack jokes late at night when you stayed over watching tv late at night. He'd steal glances at you when you would both be in the library studying for an upcoming test. Years went on and nothing changed. He's been on countless dates with girls from town only to find himself complaining to you at the end of them.

The girls he did end up dating only lasted for a short while. They couldn't stand how you looked at Steve as if he hung all the stars in the sky just for you.

You hated how pathetic you looked and felt. Steve had you wrapped around his finger and he didn't even know it. You'd stay awake late at night wondering if things would ever change. Sometimes he gave mixed signals. He’d hold onto you a little too long when you hugged, kisses made their way to your cheek rather than their usual place on your forehead and you'd live for those moments.

Pretty soon the dates stopped and he'd find himself spending all of his free time with you. If he wasn't working he was with you. The kids need a ride to the arcade? He's picking you up on the way there, his hand holding yours as he drives to pick up Mike. It's not until the death of Nancy’s editor and Chrissy that you find yourself back at the very beginning. The town was after Eddie and Dustin explained the situation as you sat in the backseat. You're not sure how you guys got to the trailer park, it was all a blur.

You see Nancy talking to a police officer, tears streaming down her face, and exhaust evident on her face and figure. She looked over at you all her breath getting caught in her throat. Steve gave her a sad smile and waved at her, and she returned it and waved back. She knew the fight wasn't over, and you knew you were being placed on the back burner once again.

“Nance! Nance hey, where are you going?” you heard Steve ask her while he chased after her. You see her shake her head and her mouth move, but you hear nothing. Everything around you is silent as you stare at the former couple.

Tears well up in your eyes and you shake your head aggressively wiping them away. You take deep breaths and calm yourself down, but you feel the damn about to break when you see Steve stare at Nancy as she and Robin hop into her car and drive off. Shaking your head once more you back away from the car slowly catching Steve's attention.

“Hey, hey it's going to be okay. They're just going-”

“I can't do this Steve.” you cry out. He shushes you and tries to grab your hand but you refuse to let him touch you.

“I know y/n, but we’ll be okay. We all made it last time-”

“Do you still love Nancy?”

Steve froze in his spot and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “W-what?”

You wipe the tears off of your face, angry at the fact you're crying but also terrified that you might lose your best friend.

“I can't stick around again Steve. I've been in love with you this whole time, but the way you look at her...I thought you were starting to feel the same but,” you took a deep breath. “I need to know.”

Steve shook his head. “You can't do this. That's not fair.”

“Not fair? Not fair?” you were angry now and he knew it. “What's not fair Steve, is how I had to watch you fall in love with someone who couldn't even love you the way you deserved to be loved! Then, I had to clean up the mess she made, when she broke your heart! I came by after school every day to check on you, I even did your fucking homework cause I know what it's like to love someone who doesn't want you.”

Dustin and Max were quick to sit in the car turning up the radio to block out your arguing.

“Then I think, finally, maybe now he'll see how I'm always there for him, but no! Instead, you go on dates with every single girl in town, and then, you complain to me about how they just aren't her.” you let out a cold laugh and continue to wipe your tears away. “I'm not asking for your hand in marriage Steve, I just need to know if I'm wasting any more time on this.”

Steve stood in silence, not because he knew the answer only because he didn't. He loved Nancy, a part of him always would. He's not sure why old feelings came rushing out of nowhere when he saw her again, but he can't help that they did.

“I don't know…”

You didn't think your heart could break anymore, but you were proven wrong when you stared at Steve with his head hung low. You nodded your head letting out a sigh.

“I'm tired of being your second choice, Steve,” you mumbled while walking toward the car grabbing the back door handle. “After this, I think it's best we distance ourselves.”

“For how long?”

She shrugged her shoulders and sat in the backseat with Max. Steve stood frozen to his spot with only one thought on his mind.

How the fuck is he going to fix this?

#ouchie 🤩#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 5 months

Text

The Stronger Desires

So, starting off strong, we're doing the request for @cantchoosejust1 first, who lovingly requested a femme fatale reader.

Now, I haven't written anything like this, so hopefully you enjoy my spin on things.

Now, let's see exactly what happens with these two.

*Side note, I may have a poll later regarding a pfp change, just to see everyone's thoughts.*

Warnings: Cursing, canon like violence, sexual innuendos, perhaps even fluff, Female reader

The gif is unfortunately not mine, and Tumblr didn't wanna work with me, so it's from Pinterest.

Anywho

Arthur wished, truly, that he could explain exactly how he ended up in this spot, but honestly he'd be just as lost as whoever he was telling the story too.

The night had started off pretty good in all honesty. The gang had been celebrating, enjoying their success on the last job they'd managed to pull off, drinking, laughing, and causing problems for everyone else around them in the saloon.

The place had been lively. Hell, even Arthur had ACTUALLY been having fun.

The biggest smile on his face as he took a seat in the far corner to catch his breath from all the dancing and singing he'd been doing, which he was sure had made him look like an absolute fool.

He chuckles to himself as he quietly lights a cigarette and places it between his lips.

The Saint Denis saloon was...surprisingly more lively than what he'd expected it to be. Rich folks sure knew how to party properly.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots something, a brightly colored dress, not out of the norm for this place, but, for some reason, this one seemed...different.

He turned his head to look, and he was honestly surprised he managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth with the way it nearly fell open.

The woman wearing the dress was far prettier than the actual dress itself.

A gorgeous face, and absolutely wonderful hair as well.

The only part that didn't quite make much sense to him was the fact that you were all over a fat aristocrat. Balding with an awful mustache, but you seemed to be rather excited to stand next to him.

He couldn't quite understand it, how absolutely stunning you are, yet you're following a man like that around.

It boggled him.

The night continued, as they usually do, but now that he'd seen you, Arthur couldn't quite stop staring at you.

You were absolutely beautiful. You were...stunning, and it was damn near impossible for him to focus on much else.

It was hard not to when they man you were clinging too was a big as a house, and being followed around by at least four body guards.

What he was doing in a saloon he'd never know.

It's pretty late at night when things really start to get confusing for Arthur. It's about here that he'd be a little...confused when trying to retell the tale.

Due to the confusing nature of it all as well as all the apple pie moonshine in his system.

Things seem to be going smoothly, until all the sudden the entire saloon is screaming rather than singing.

Instinct takes over and Arthur's hand grabs the butt of his pistol before he realizes exactly what's going on.

The crowd quickly disperses, and it's then that Arthur realizes exactly what happened.

You, you're what happened.

There, on the floor is the aristocrat, though he's much less lively now that there's a bullet wound through his head.

How the hell he hadn't heard the shot he still didn't grasp.

The body guards all surround...you.

Arthur almost jumped up right then and there to defend you. He could take out all four of them in a matter of seconds, and he knew that, but right as he contemplates it he watches you pull a revolver out from under your dress.

The evening suddenly got much more interesting.

"Back off! Or I'll kill you too, that fat bastard had more money than he needed anyway, and if he'd put his hand up my skirt one more time he was gonna die in a much worse way, so be fucking GRATEFUL!"

Arthur nearly laughs out loud at the venom in your voice. It was...well it wasn't funny actually, it was more...attractive to him than anything.

For a moment you make eye contact with him, and it's a strange sensation, the way the two of you seem to talk with your eyes.

Arthur gives you a soft nod, a small smirk on his face and then he nods towards the saloon doors.

You give a nod in return and Arthur takes it as his que to leave discreetly.

It's only a moment later when you exit the saloon at a sprint, and Arthur holds his hand out for you to grab as he sits atop his horse, a black Shire.

You take his hand and he hoists you up easily, as if you weigh nothing at all.

The moment you're on his horse he takes off, the remaining guards rushing out of the saloon too.

It's only seconds after that, that the sound of the lawmen's whistles can be heard. One of the patrons must have reported the gunshot.

You hold onto Arthur for dear life, an arm around his torso and the other holding out your revolver.

"Nice to meet you mister! I take it you aren't exactly a friend of the government either?"

"No ma'am!"

Arthur laughs at the absurdity of it and keeps riding hard as the lawmen start to gather behind the two of you.

"Quick on your feet back there!"

He states, taking a turn down an alleyway that appeared to be just big enough.

"Thanks, you too, saw you reach for your gun!"

You chuckle to yourself.

"Don't exactly look the rich type. In fact, don't look like the Saint Denis type. I take it you might be in the uh...'bodyguard' business."

"If ya mean shootin' fools who deserve it, then yes, I am."

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Arthur Morgan."

"Y/N L/N."

"Nice to meet ya. Let's get the hell outta here."

Arthur did his best to do just that, out running the law as quickly as he could get his poor horse to go.

Finally after quite some time the two of you make it into the woods, just outside Saint Denis, the sound of the lawmen steadily fading.

You're nearly out of the woods, metaphorically of course, when a stump seems to have other ideas.

Arthur and you both go flying off the horse, and directly into the mud below.

It's dark as hell and Arthur has no clue exactly where he is, and you just barely do.

Both of you are covered in mud and Arthur's horse: Mayhem, is currently writhing on the ground attempting to right itself.

You sit up in the mud, scoffing and trying to wipe mud off your face as Arthur does the same.

"Christ Alive..."

Arthur groans, flicking his arm downwards, trying to get the mud off.

You do the same, looking at him with a look of disgust on your face, only for a moment, before you start laughing.

"Well, Mr. Morgan, how very kind of you to dump me in the mud like this."

"Well I didn't mean-"

You laugh and stand up, before you tear off your skirt, now soiled with mud, to reveal your pants underneath it.

"I needed to get that thing off anyway, I was about tired of it."

You reach your hand out, and Arthur takes it, a sort of sheepish grin on his face.

"Well, glad ya ain't too mad at me."

"Nah...you ain't crossed the line just yet cowboy."

Arthur laughs this time and pulls his hand away to run it over his stubble in an attempt to try and get the rest of the mud off.

"I'll be stinkin' for weeks with this stuff, even if I take a damn bath at the hotel."

He sighs and takes his hat off, wiping mud off the brim.

He looks up at you.

"So...Miss L/N...You...sure seem more than capable of takin' care of yourself...I assume you got somewhere you can hide out for a bit until the law gets off you?"

"Course I do."

You laugh and step closer. You take the hat from his hand and gently place it back on his head, pressing your hand to his chest in the process.

"All worried about me there, Mr. Morgan?"

"Worried? No. Curious? Yes."

You offer yet another chuckle and then step around him, letting your hand travel over his shoulder, gently taking it away as you step closer to his horse, and offer it an apple from your bag that had been hidden beneath your dress.

"Well Mr. Morgan...if you're so interested, I suppose you'll have to bump into me again sometime soon, won't you? After all you did save me back there...even if you threw me into the mud afterwards."

"Hey I said-"

"So defensive."

You tease and step back towards him, you flick his hat, making it tilt upwards slightly.

"Send me a letter sometime Mr. Morgan...I could use someone like you for some of my...endeavors. If you're willing that is."

"Depends...You ain't gonna make me dress up and sing the can can are you?"

"No, I wasn't but...now I might."

You laugh and look towards Saint Denis' in the distance.

"Well...Mr. Morgan, if you could do me a favor and drop me off near Rhodes...I think I'd be forever in your debt."

Before Arthur could really register it, that's exactly where he was, stopped in front of the Rhodes train station, holding something you'd given him as he watched you climb onto the train.

A heavy locket, sat in his palm, as well as a handkerchief you'd insisted on giving him, with your initials sewed into the corner of it.

You smile at him, and wave from your seat as the train pulls away, and something within Arthur tells him that it won't be the last time that he sees you.

He couldn't quite remember exactly how he'd managed to end up here. In all complete honesty, the only thing he really knew for certain was that you were....something, that was for sure. Spitfire and kick to you.

He'd see you again. he'd make sure of it.

Okay, so, like I said, this is slightly different than what I write, not by much, but it is a little different, so I hope it was good, and I hope that you enjoyed it! As always, I'm always happy to rewrite something if it doesn't hit the spot just right!

#arthur morgan #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #answered asks #arthur morgan x reader

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

Text

kerosene (part ii)

jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader

summary: after you find out your family has been orchestrating a plan to use you as a scapegoat to assure your brother's reign. You pledge your allegiance to the black queen and switch alliances as pleaded by your secret lover himself, prince jacaerys velaryon.

warnings: none yet

taglist: @simrah1012 @maplumebleue-blog-blog @remuslupinwifee

note: thank you for the love on part 1, I'm so glad a lot of ppl enjoy it<3

°°°

"Who wears green on their wedding?" Your mother's eyes snaps to yours in a glare.

"it's pale green. it'll look white from a distance." She reasons with you while rolling her eyes and passing the dress to a servant.

You snorted at her statement and go back to your reading, determined to show her how unbothered you are by this farce. As frustrated as she is with your immature act, she's glad you're not putting a show of it.

Your mother's presence was finally taken from you when a knock was heard on your door, claiming your brother Aemond have arrived back from his visit in Storms End and seemingly had something important to discuss with her.

You were grateful for the moments peace before you yourself was called out, minutes after to meet with them urgently.

"Well? What is it?" You asked impatiently as you were met with both cautious looking Aemond and your dear mother.

Alicent takes a deep breath before meeting your eyes and telling you; "You will fly to Storm's End tomorrow at dawn and the wedding will be held that exact night-"

Her sentence was cut short as your eyes bulge out of your sockets and you gasped in shock at her.

"-Excuse me? No. I will not-"

"You will not argue with me! Your brother has caused us a risk of losing the alliance when he killed Lucerys-"

"he WHAT?"

"I didn't kill him- it was VHAGAR, I told you, She would not listen to me and ate him-"

"VHAGAR ATE LUCERYS?"

The conversation went like that with all three of you cutting eachother off and screaming in eachother's faces until finally your mother's voice was the last to scream out begging the both of you to shut the fuck up.

"None of you- NONE of you can ever do as you're fucking told! If this goes on we'll lose this war before it even start-"

"There wouldn't be a war of it weren't for Aemond-" "I already repeatedly told you I didn't kill Luc-"

"SILENCE- or I'll feed you both to Vhagar as well you brats" She snaps at the two of you.

Alicent releases a tired sigh pulling the roots of her hair in frustration.

"Lord Borros Baratheon should receive my letter of the acceleration of the wedding by tonight, I will hear NO argument from you, [name], I already have enough on my plate, do not become a problem to me." She says this word by word as she walks closer to you making you meet her intense gaze.

You gulped and nodded, fearing your mother's wrath. And thankfully that was just what she needed, releasing a relieved sigh, Alicent shooks her head tiredly and excuses the both of you.

You and Aemond side eyes(eye?) eachother as you leave your mother's chambers, Before he can start defending himself again, you turn your head to the direction of your room and rush there to avoid saying something that'll start your own war between the two of you.

°°°

"What do you mean I can't see her?" You raised your voice at the guards.

"I'm sorry my princess, the queen has ordered your dragon to be kept in chains and to not allow you-"

"Yes I heard you the first time." You snapped as he apologizes again bowing his head. Your mother was obviously scared you'd attempt to flee. She's had your dragon Ciervo in chains. Like some prisoned animal.

You excuse the knight and upsettingly walk back to your room. There was no escape in this, you were to be forced into this whether you wanted it or not.

Your thoughts was distracted as you were met with Ser Harrold Westerling, walking too fast and slamming into his armour as he holds you upright.

"I apologize my princess" He immediately says and you wave him off apologizing back for not paying attention to your front.

As you're about to walk away his hand grips your shoulder halting you to a stop.

You look at the commander in confusion but then you feel his hand hold yours, before letting it go and walking away with a bow.

He has slipped something to you. A paper.

°°°°

Everyone was asleep in this hour, You wrap the shawl and hood around you tighter, changing your shoes into flats, you hear the walls beside your bed being pushed as the secret passageway attached to your room slowly opens.

You see ser Harrold's shadow as he remains in there, close enough to see you but not entering your room. Immediately you close the lights of your room and rush into the tunnel and he passes a light to you before pushing the wall to close again.

You follow close behind him and his fast pace as he holds your hand and leads you out to a direct gate that that brings you out of the palace.

He breathes a relieved sigh when the both of you reaches the public, noises and chatters of commoners fill your ears and he walks you fast to an alleyway.

He pulls out a sack pushing it into your hand. "This is enough to pay for the seat I've bought for you on the ship. It sails in a few so I'm going to need you to go straight there, no detours, no talking to anyone, if anyone asks, say you're sailing to meet your aunt in Pentos, the moment it's stops at Dragonstone, do not look back and just keep walking, the castle is barely 2 miles away from the Port the ship usually stops at-"

His rambling cuts off as you throw your arms around him in a bear hug.

His arms slowly comes around you before you feel him relaxing and hugging you tighter.

As you pull away, he holds your shoulders making you look at him, "Be careful, princess."

You smile despite the anxious feeling in your gut, "Always, ser Harrold. Thank you, for everything" You tried your best to sound confident, but he sees through the bold woman that you are, straight to the scared child inside you. "Always, princess."

He bows one last time before letting you go, and as you turn to follow the directions he's repeated to you, you don't look back even once.

°°°°°

The news of Lucerys' death spread like wildfire the moment the clock hits 12 at dragonstone. Jacaerys was to fly to meet the Arryns tomorrow as the distance was further compared to the one to Storms End, but now all he wants to do is ride Vermax straight to Kingslanding and cut off Aemond Targaryen's head off.

As a gift for his mother.

He spits out a bitter taste of Aemond's name from his tongue as if he's said it out loud. Even thinking of what's happened makes him sick.

He couldn't cry when he heard, It all felt too impossible, Lucerys was just here a few hours ago. Saying his farewells, making a bad joke about winterfell wolves eating him, braving himself to Storms End on the brave Arrax.

Braving himself even through his death. His mind was lagging, anger clouded his sadness and grief, all he saw was red.

His mother has been sobbing on the floor of the council room, Daemon's arm secured around her, not daring to try and move her.

The moment the news reached her, Jace has immediately yelled at everyone to leave the room. Leaving with them as his heart hurts too much to witness more of his mother's will to live disappear. Everything was taken from her, bit by bit, all because she was a woman.

"My prince" Her mother's guard, ser Arryk was breathlessly running towards him.

"She's here" He gasped out. He frowns in confusion.

"She?" Alicent?

"Princess [name], She's arrived from Kingslanding, she claims to be here to pledge allegiance to the Queen" His words were fast from his lack of air but Jacaerys heard every bit of them.

"Then let her in." Daemon's voice booms from behind him, making him flinch. He was holding the Queen by his side, arms linked.

Rhaenyra had seemed to calmed down, though the redness of her face and swollen eyes, a loud reminder of what could never be forgotten.

Ser Arryk nods at prince consort's command.

Jace's heart was going to explode.

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